


Restraint

by Dystopian_Dramaqueen



Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV), The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Breeding, Guilt, Helplessness, Lust, Masturbation, Rebellion, Ritual Public Sex, Shame, Survival, forced intercourse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23107249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dystopian_Dramaqueen/pseuds/Dystopian_Dramaqueen
Summary: The events of 1x5 from Nick's perspective.**chapter 3 is new, story is complete**
Relationships: Nick Blaine/June Osborne | Offred
Comments: 15
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

Nick’s brows cinch together. Serena’s words echo in his mind. He understands what she’s asking him to do, but his mind is frozen. _It’s forbidden._ He blinks heavily as he tries to come up with a response. _Suicide. For all of us._ Serena remains stone faced, watching him with growing irritation the longer he remains silent. His mouth is dry and there’s a brick in his stomach, but he manages to swallow thickly, gathering himself. Stalling.

“When?”

“One hour. I’ll bring her to your room.” 

Nick’s chest tightens. All at once, a sickening realization washes over him. _She’s not asking, she’s telling. This is an order, not a request._

“The Commander?”

“This does not concern him.”

Nick’s panicked eyes fix on Serena. She sighs, seeing that Nick needs reassurance this isn’t a set up. 

“He’s away on business this evening. He won’t be back until after nightfall. I will oversee the ceremony myself to make sure everything goes as planned.”

Bile rises in Nick’s throat. _She’s serious. Shit._ He focuses all of his energy on holding the vomit down. 

“Thank you, Nick.” Serena says curtly, like she’d asked him to wax the car or trim the hedges. 

He’s just starting to shake his head as the door closes. _This can’t be happening. Fuck. I should report her. But there’s no time. They’d take this out on the handmaid somehow. Or me, for agreeing. I should have said no._ He runs his hand over his hair. _Serena would just find someone else. This is safer. For Offred. She knows me._

Nick grabs his coat. _I need to talk to her._ He takes his stairs two at a time, walking quickly to the kitchen. _Maybe Rita knows where she is._ When he gets inside, his momentum crashes to a halt. She’s there. Eating cereal, smiling at him mischievously. He stalls, washing up, taking a cup of coffee from Rita with shaking hands, cursing silently. _Rita you have to go. I need to talk to her._

Serena’s voice cuts through the kitchen. “Offred, will you join me in the garden, please?”

And with that, any chance of a stolen moment vanishes into thin air. Offred sits up straight and obedient. “Yes, Mrs. Waterford.” She leaves her breakfast unfinished and heads for the door, leaving Nick and Rita in silence. Nick sets his coffee down, barely touched, muttering thanks to Rita and taking his leave.

\----------------------------------------------

Back in his apartment, terror creeps in. _If we’re caught... if anyone ever finds out, we’re all dead._

Guilt is next, along with an anguished helplessness. _I should have said no. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I had no choice._

Then comes anger. He liked talking to Offred. She was the one person he could act somewhat normal around. Someone his age who remembered the time before. 

But today will ruin everything. This will destroy any chance for friendship, or more. Nick squeezes his eyes shut. Closing off that line of thinking. Chastising himself for being so foolish. _There was never a future with the handmaid. The jokes, the smiles- there was never going to be anything more. We’re both slaves. She’ll get pregnant. She’ll be reassigned. I’ll die here with the Waterfords. We’re both going to die here._ Nick’s eyes open, He stares down at his aching calloused hands, forcing them open slowly. He had clenched his fists so hard that his fingernails had dug into his palms. He stares at the dirt under his fingernails, realizing he’s filthy from working in the garden that morning. He unbuttons his shirt quickly, pulling it off over his head and walking for the shower. 

The pipes creak in protest as he turns his shower on. He steps in before it has a chance to warm up. The stream is freezing on his shoulders. He tilts his head back, letting the icy water run through his hair, hoping the sobering chill will clear his racing mind. When his body adjusts to the frigid temperature, he turns around, letting the water run over his face. _Fucking freezing. Ice cold. Ice. I brought you some ice._ Nick wipes his face, trying to block out the familiar memory. _I tried to stop them. I’m sorry. I came to check if you were ok...You’re dripping…._

Nick shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut, but his heart continues down the well worn path to the memory of that night. 

_It was her eyes. Always her eyes that undid him._

_Her gaze direct and fearless._

_She’d stared right back at him- unafraid._

_She’d cracked a joke and he’d barely noticed because there was no air in her room._

_T_ _here was something else. Something heavy and intoxicating._

_The ice was the only way he knew how to help._

_When he handed it to her, he brushed her arm with his thumb._

_And that tiny point of contact burned_

_And she held his gaze because she felt it too._

_And it took every ounce of his strength to leave that room._

_Before they did something stupid that would get them both killed._

_He barely remembered walking home._

_He was suffocating. Burning alive._

_He’d felt her breath against his lips._

_He’d felt the heat their bodies made together._

_He’d touched her skin._

_But most importantly- he knew now that she wanted him too._

_He’d seen it in her eyes, heard it in her ragged breathing_

_and that knowledge changed everything._

_As soon as his door was shut and locked, he leaned against it_

_Chest heaving, eyes squeezed shut._

_Remembering every precious detail._

_More sure with every passing second._

_That she wanted him too._

_He stepped into an icy shower that night._

_Just like this one now._

_But it did nothing to cool the fire in his veins or the agitation in his mind._

_His skin was crawling._

_He was rock hard._

_He’d never been this aroused and it was literally painful._

_Nick leaned against the wall of his shower._

_His eyes clenched shut as the thoughts overwhelmed him._

_What could have happened._

_If she’d kissed him._

_Her mouth would be sweet._

_Sweet and hot and soft, like her breath._

_They’d have kissed right there in her room._

_No one would have seen._

_It wouldn’t have stopped there._ _Once the rules were broken, he would have laid her on her bed and kissed her everywhere- like her neck and the_ _soft curves of her breasts through her dress._

_Nick pressed his lips together as his hand stroked faster, desperately trying to relieve the pressure in his groin._

_He would have pushed her skirt up, kissed her panties._

_Do they even wear panties?_

_Whatever she was wearing he’d rip it off and kiss her there._

_She’d be sweet and wet and warm there too, just like her mouth,_

_and he’d hold her hips and kiss her there until she moaned and writhed beneath him._

_He came hard, panting._

_Sobered by the water in his face._

_Blinking back to reality, alone in his tiny shower in his tiny apartment._

_Flooded with guilt._

  
Nick’s eyes open. He hated himself for even having those thoughts. Nothing like that would ever happen now. Not after today. He wipes his face and washes off quickly. _This afternoon will ruin everything. I’ll be one of them. A fucking rapist._

He dresses quickly and paces his apartment, finally sitting at his table and staring at the floor, leg twitching nervously.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Description of the forced intercourse in 1x5.

The knock pulls Nick from his thoughts. He walks quickly to the door to let them in. Serena first, Offred behind her. 

Serena sets her jaw, motioning for Offred to lay down on his bed. Nick stands to the side, eyes on the floor. As awkward as he’d expected this to be- it’s worse. He can tell from Offred’s halting steps that she’s not thrilled to be here either. 

Serena stands stone faced. Watching- not to protect them- but to ensure the deed gets done. Like a farmer breeding livestock. Her presence sucks all humanity from the room, cheapening the act, making it dirty and humiliating. 

Offred sits down, staring ahead blankly, like she’s removed her mind from her body. Nick feels sick as he walks to his bed, wanting to get it over with quickly. He unzips, ashamed to be hard already, but it’s just the adrenaline. Nothing about this is arousing.

Offered lays down, staring at the ceiling, arms relaxed at her sides, legs hanging off the bed. Nick doesn’t know what he expected, but the position is disturbing. Like she’s a corpse. A lifeless, inert vessel. 

He lays over her, pulling himself free of his clothes, positioning himself at her entrance. It feels wrong skipping so many steps. His finger brushes against her out of habit. He doesn’t want to hurt her if she’s not ready. But she’s soaked. Hot and soft and silken and slick. 

He tries not to think about it. Not make it more than it is. The moisture between her legs is not consent. Just like his erection is from fear and not desire. This is survival, not lovemaking. _Of course she‘s wet. She got ready like I did. She doesn’t want this anymore than I do._ He’s thankful for it, though. There’s no lube, foreplay isn’t allowed, and spit would have made this even more degrading. 

Serena clears her throat. There’s no more delaying. It has to happen now. 

Nick enters her cautiously. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands since touch is forbidden. He balances awkwardly on his fists. He tries to move slowly. It ends up being mechanical and horrible. 

He’s filled with the same urge from an hour ago. To check in with Offred. He shouldn’t. It’s forbidden. This isn’t lovemaking. It’s breeding. They should rush through this and forget it ever happened.

But he can’t stop his eyes from wandering to her. It’s a relief to see no signs of pain or discomfort. At least there’s that. _I’m not hurting her._ He watches with soft curiosity. She looks bored. Reading the titles of his military books. 

But then her eyes flick to his, and everything changes. She holds his gaze, watching HIM. A hint of a smile grows in her eyes- the same mischievous hunger from the kitchen. 

Nick shifts, stifling a groan. He’s rutting into her harder and he grips the bedsheet, biting his lip to keep quiet. He wants so badly to kiss her. It’s torture not to be able to touch her. To pretend this is nothing.

Nick steals another long gaze. He has no excuse this time. It only worsens his discomfort because she’s still watching him- mouth open- flushed and breathing hard _and this is what she’d look like if we made love._ Nick comes hard- eyes clenching shut, breathing through it alone. 

But he’s not alone. She’s with him. Caressing his arm softly- like he’d touched her in her room. With that tiny gesture she reclaimed the moment for them- making it sacred. Just for that second they were no longer breed stock. They might have been lovers. 

Nick stares at her. What she’s doing- the smile, the touch- is rebellion. 

He stands, fixing himself awkwardly. 

Serena and Offred leave. 

Nick sits on his bed. His eyes un-focus as the fleeting connection is forgotten. All that remains is hollow guilt.


	3. Chapter 3

Nick arrives early for the Ceremony that night. He waits in Waterford’s living room, hoping to steal a moment alone with Offred, but Rita arrives first, grumbling about undone chores. Serena is right behind her. 

Nick steels himself. _Communication will be impossible now._

Serena sits, not a hair out of place. She lights her cigarette like usual, holding the smoke and releasing it slowly into the stuffy living room. Her face is as emotionless as ever, giving no sign that she orchestrated a crime punishable by death just hours ago. 

5 minutes before the hour, Nick hears Offred’s light footsteps behind him. He glances at her face quickly as she passes by. His brows cinch together. _She doesn’t look good._ She’s pale. Her eyes are red rimmed and glazed over. She moves slowly, like she’s sleepwalking. 

Offred takes her place in front of Rita and Nick, kneeling and smoothing her dress over her legs. She folds her hands on her lap demurely and stares at the floor. 

Nick’s jaw clenches as he fixes his eyes on the wall. _She’s tuning out. Dissociating. Like she did in my room. That’s how she survives this shit._ The thought makes him sick, and he’s angry with himself for not realizing it before today. He knew the propaganda was bullshit. They didn’t serve willingly. But somehow he’d never _really_ thought about what they went through. How awful it was. 

_Like factory farms_ he thinks, remembering the day in high school a friend showed him video footage from a slaughter house. He threw up and refused to eat meat for a month. To this day, he’d never forgotten the screams of the animals. He couldn’t un-hear them. After that, he knew- that just because you don’t see the violence, it doesn’t mean it isn’t happening. _Like with the handmaids._ _They’re people. They’re raped every month. It’s fucking horrible._

Fred comes in last, taking his place at the mantle. Nick tries to keep his face emotionless, but it’s harder tonight. His chest tightens. His stomach churns as his mind floods with images of what will take place upstairs. His eyes clench shut to block out the thoughts. He has to force them back open as Fred reads the scripture. He can barely stand it. 

The ceremony proceeds like normal. It’s over quickly. 

When Fred turns to lock the bible back up, Offred stands and walks toward the stairs. Nick steals another glance at her, hoping for eye contact, some sign that she’s ok. 

But there’s nothing. 

And then she’s gone. 

\-----------------------------------

Nick watches Offred’s window obsessively after the ceremony. Sitting in his apartment, flicking his zippo lighter on and off. On and off. When he sees movement in the kitchen window below, he sits up straight and closes the lighter definitively. _It’s her._

He walks to the house quickly, out of breath by the time he arrives. His concern worsens when he sees her throwing up. He’s confused because it’s too early to be sick if she’s pregnant. 

He checks in. The words tumble out before he can stop them. It sounds ridiculous. 

Offred scoffs and rolls her eyes, like he’s a child. An idiot. He knows he deserves it. It was a stupid question. _She’s not ok. None of this is ok. She had to fuck two strangers today._

But then the conversation takes an unexpected turn. She asks him if he’s an Eye. The question catches him off guard. He deflects, apologizing for earlier. She seems to hear his apology the second time. She asks him again for the truth, her eyes full of tears. He finally decides that she deserves the truth. He confirms that he’s an eye. Her eyes glaze over again and she laughs to herself, wandering back upstairs. 

Nick returns to his apartment, closing the door and leaning against it, running his hands over his hair. _Fuck. I shouldn’t have told her that._

The air in his room is stuffy. Thick and humid. He considers a cold shower, but now that reminds him of her too.

He walks to his kitchen, turning on the water and splashing some on his face, leaning with both hands on the sink, his eyes closed, water dripping from his face. Trying to slow his breathing. But his mind strays to the same image that’s haunted him all afternoon. _Her hand on my arm. Her eyes on mine. Smiling. Mischievous. Wanting me too. Rebelling._

Nick shakes his head to clear the image. Sick with himself. Sick of all of it. Refusing to get any pleasure from fantasies of her anymore. Knowing it’s wrong. 

He splashes more water on his face and strips down to his underwear, cracking his window to get some ventilation. It doesn’t help. The air doesn’t move. It’s stagnant and muggy. 

It’s too hot for covers. Too hot even for a sheet. He lays down on top of his bedspread, staring at the ceiling. It takes an hour for him to drift off to sleep.

_He wakes to the sound of his floorboards creaking._

_He blinks his eyes open._

_It’s dark. He can’t see anything._

_Just a figure by his bed_

_Somehow he knows it’s her._

_She climbs in, laying down next to him._

_He doesn’t know why she came._

_Bad dream? Something she needs to ask for?_

_He should tell her to go._

_But he doesn’t._

_He reaches out, surprised to feel soft skin under his fingertips._

_She’s not wearing any clothes._

_He traces the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist._

_Her body is exactly as he imagined, only softer._

_His fingers brush the edge of her breast._

_The skin there is even softer yet._

_  
__He pauses. Not knowing if it’s ok to continue._

_As if reading his mind, she takes his hand and places it on her breast._

_Her nipple is hard against his palm._

_Nick’s breath catches as he squeezes reflexively._

_He’s breathing so hard now._

_Chest rising and falling quickly._

_His whole body is on fire._

_She’s taking his hand again._

_Sliding it down._

_His chest aches._

_He’s never wanted someone so badly._

_June is trembling._

_She leans forward to kiss him._

_As she places his hand between her legs._

_Nick moans softly as her lips touch his._

_He obliges her, gently stroking her there._

_Offred opens her legs to give him more room._

_Nick shifts to get a better angle, propping up on one elbow, kissing her vigorously as his fingers explore her._

_He cups her mound, massaging her outer lips_

_as his tongue explores her mouth._

_She grows damper with every passing second._

_He drags his middle finger slowly along her slit._

_Offred moans into his mouth, clinging to his shoulders._

_Her nipples are rock hard against his chest._

_Goosebumps rise all over his body_

_She whimpers softly, pleading for him to do that again._

_Nick is flushing all over, feverish with desire._

_He drags his finger through her cleft again._

_And again._

_Deeper each time as her body opens to him_

_He’s so hard it hurts._

_Her hand is on him now too._

_Tracing his cock through his thin black boxer shorts._

_Nick feels dizzy._

_No one’s touched him like this in ages._

_He’s kissing her urgently now,_

_rolling his hips, rubbing against her hand._

_Offred is moving too, rutting against his hand._

_She’s so fucking wet. Slick and warm and ready._

_He slips a finger inside her, and it’s heaven._

_She grabs his wrist._

_She’s whispering “please.”_

_He slips another finger inside and starts fucking her with slow tortuous strokes_

_Her mouth is open against his, barely breathing_

_He pulls both fingers out, rubbing flat circles on her clit_

_She’s bucking against him in protest, writhing and begging and kissing him hard_

_Nick’s breath shudders and he slips his fingers back inside her_

_plunging his digits deep into her heat._

_Again and again, fucking her in a slow rhythm._

_He can feel her winding tighter and tighter._

_She’s wrapped her leg around his hips_

_Rocking furiously against his hand_

_But Nick is steady, with slow sensuous pulses._

_He pulls out again to rub her pussy quickly from the outside,_

_June bucks wildly again, and Nick’s right there with her, kissing the cries from her lips._

_Now rolling her swollen clit between his fingertips and_ _she’s groaning deep primal sounds_

_He plunges back inside her, fucking fast and hard,_ _Everything is locked tight,_ _  
__her thighs clench around his hand, her nails dig into his bicep_

_and she’s coming on his hand_

_her inner walls squeeze his fingers tight as a vice._

_Nick has never felt anything so erotic in his life._

_He nearly comes right then, just seeing her like this_

_and he knows he’s addicted_

_he needs to give her release like this -_

_over and over forever._

_But she’s pushing him away_

_Down flat on his back_

_She’s pulling his underwear down and climbing on top of him_

_and she’s settling down, taking him inside her heat_

_And its too much. Too perfect. Overwhelming._

_His head arches back into the bed with a groan_

_He needs to hold her._

_He tries to sit up_

_But she pushes him back_

_Hands flat on his chest,_

_Holding him down_

_Riding him hard._

_Using him_

_He closes his eyes, feeling her back, her breasts,_

_Her perfect curves._

_Pressure builds in his groin_

_He’s not gonna last._

_He grabs her hips,_

_begging her to slow down._

Nick comes hard with a cry. He bites his lip, holding his breath as release pulses from his body. It lasts and lasts.

But when he blinks his eyes open, she’s gone. The morning light casts harsh beams through his window. 

He’s alone on his bed. Drenched in sweat. 

_It was just a dream._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve decided to end this here. The end scene in 1x5 speaks for itself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you @thismidnight for throwing gasoline on this head cannon.


End file.
